Always Something to Chase: Uncle Jack, Father Time
By Gerry Gesell
Two men, Ron and Dave, sit at an old table on the porch of an old adobe house out in the middle of nowhere. Hands huddled around cups of coffee, a cooler sits at the backside of one of the chairs. Outside, the sun is rising and barely breaking the horizon.
Ron — “You ever wonder about people who get up really early in the mornings? I mean really early, like 3:00—3:30 in the morning?”
Dave — “Not really. I couldn’t imagine getting up that early, not even to go fishing.”
Both men sit for a moment, pick up their cups and drink. Shadows shift across the walls as the sun breaks the horizon.
Ron — “I have this uncle Jack, he gets up, without an alarm clock every morning, no later than 3:30…every morning!”
Dave — “Uncle Jack? I have an uncle Jack.” “That son of a gun doesn’t get up any earlier than 3:30 in the afternoon.”
Ron — “Everybody has an Uncle Jack.” He drinks his coffee.
Water, somewhere, is running and a fly lands on top of it. The sunlight glistens. The other man reaches back, behind his chair, and opens the lid on the cooler. He fishes around and pulls a cold beer from beneath the ice.
Dave — “You really have an Uncle Jack?” As he opens the beer. “There’s no damn way everybody has an uncle Jack…”
Ron — “Yes, I have an uncle Jack.” They sit quietly. “He used to tell me how important time is, and how unimportant knowing what time it is, is.”
Outside, the sun rises higher.
Dave — “That doesn’t make any sense to me, we always need to know what time it is. How would we get anything done if we didn’t?”
Dave rolls his watch around on his wrist.
Ron — “Don’t get me wrong, I know we need to know what time it is during the day. We would be early or late to everything we did, if we didn’t keep time. But, as he put it, ‘time is keeping us’.” “He explained to me that life is just a series of naps for him. He wakes up early, drinks his coffee, reads a chapter or two, depending on what he is reading, and then he goes to work.”
Dave — “So he has a job? He has to show up on time and put in his 8 hours?”
Ron — “He does have a real job. He paints houses.” “He paints until he gets to a point in the day where he gets tired and then he takes a nap. He told me that he would lay down somewhere, under a tree or in the bed of his truck, and take a 30-minute nap. He said it was just enough time to rest. He didn’t want to take too much time away from the day. Somehow he knew when it was time to wake up and get back to work. He’d finish his day and like clockwork, show up at the local beer joint and drink two beers. Every day, only two beers.”
Flashback to Uncle Jack in a montage of working, napping and having his beers. Outside, the sun has moved across the sky.
Dave — “Why only two beers? I mean, I get it, if he is that good at waking up without an alarm clock, he is good enough to only drink two beers.” “Not me, I’d have to have a few, just so I could go home and sleep.”
Ron — “You don’t sleep?”
Dave — “I do, but I have a helluva time falling asleep. I roll over and look at the clock and it’ll be midnight and I’ve been laying there trying to fall asleep for a couple of hours.” “About the time I fall asleep, my alarm clock goes off and it’s time to get up.”
Ron — “Try throwing your clock out. I know it sounds like a bad idea, but it will work.”
Dave — “Man, I dunno about that. If I’m anything like my uncle Jack, I will sleep way past when I’m supposed to be up. Your uncle Jack had it right with his naps I guess.”
Flashback—the other Uncle Jack rolling out of bed and dragging himself outside at midday. Dave drinks his beer. Outside, the sun is still moving.
Ron — “My uncle Jack reads a lot of books and he reminded me of a sentence from a book Thomas McGuane wrote. Do you know who Thomas McGuane is?”
Dave — “Rancho Deluxe, the movie with Jeff Bridges and Sam Waterston. Jimmy Buffett wrote the soundtrack, right?”
Ron — “And Slim Pickens and Harry Dean Stanton, and…but yes, among other things. Anyway, the sentence went something like ‘They all eat or sleep when they’re hungry or tired. There is no schedule…’ that stuck with me and I started to understand what he was trying to explain to me. From the looks of Uncle Jack, he was never hungry or tired. He always seemed to be in just the right mood. If he was a man of excess, his excess was being too relaxed. I wanted that in a bad way.”
Both men sit in silence for a moment, taking sips from their beers. By this time, shadows are moving across the other walls and floor and they are getting longer. The men are looking outside.
Dave — “What did he do?”
Ron — “What?”
Dave — “Your uncle, after stopping at the ice house for his two beers. What would he do?”
Ron — “He would go home, eat some supper and then practice casting or tie flies. He told me he never went to bed without a book and on most nights he’d finally fall asleep around midnight. He told me how he loved the feeling of falling asleep while reading. It seemed a three-hour nap was all he needed and he’d be up and at it again.”
Dave — “I have to say, I’ve never been one for getting up early. Yeah, on days I would guide on the river or had to start glassing for aoudad or desert elk, of course I had to get up early, really early. I do enjoy those mornings. The silence and peacefulness, the unknown before the sun rises. Hell, maybe your uncle Jack has it right.”
Ron — “I didn’t know you were such a romantic.” In a slightly sarcastic tone.
Dave — “I can be one from time to time.”
Ron — “I asked my uncle if he ever got tired. He told me he did. He explained to me that the morning he didn’t wake up on his own, it was time to go fishing. See, Uncle Jack loves fishing, fly fishing. Practicing casting and tying flies was what he did to prepare himself for the day he was tired. He’d pack his gear, call his favorite guides and head to somewhere where the fishing was good. He could fish the early mornings and late afternoons and nap throughout his day. He spent his time doing what he loved and in doing so, he rested. I think it takes a lifetime to get to that point.”
Uncle Jack, again, in a sequence of casting and tying flies. Outside, the sun is getting lower.
Dave — “When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound so bad. Maybe I should start getting up early everyday, not just on those good days. The more I think about it, I should be making the most of my time. Hell, all we have is time.”
Ron — “No, it’s not that all we have is time. It’s that WE all HAVE TIME. It is how we use that time that gives us all of what we have in life.”
Dave — “Where is Uncle Jack now?”
Ron — “Fishing…”
Dave — “It’s about that time, let’s go.”
Notes: I have this vision of the audience watching this and in the back of their minds, not much time passes in this interaction, but by the end of it, the sun has risen and set on the day. In reality, the conversation might last 10–15 minutes, but visually it lasts an entire day.
By Gerry Gesell. Gerry Gesell is a San Angelo-based horse trainer, leatherworker, cowboy, and—though he might not admit it—a wordsmith with decades of experience training everything from polo ponies to cow horses. His saddle house is a treasure trove of meticulously maintained tack, reflecting his passion for craftsmanship and functionality. Through his podcast, “Gerry Gesell: There Is Always Something to Chase,” Gerry shares stories of the cowboy lifestyle, horses, and western fashion, blending philosophy, humor, and self-reflection to inspire listeners. At the core of it all is his unwavering belief: “It’s all for the horse.”
